


The Problem With Travelling

by vaughnicus



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP, Sexting, in a hotel, seriously guys that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaughnicus/pseuds/vaughnicus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Twenty minutes later Enjolras is throwing himself out of the van. Without uttering a word, he grabs a hovering Grantaire and hauls him to their room, clumsily unlocking it and swinging the 'Do Not Disturb' sign onto the handle before slamming the door behind them.'</p><p>a.k.a. the one where they're all going to San Francisco and Grantaire decides it's a good idea to distract their driver with sexually frustrated texting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Problem With Travelling

**Author's Note:**

> I had to get this out of my system while I work on a much longer, more developed fic. This is pretty much just porn.  
> So, enjoy!

It begins innocently enough.

            The Amis are all piled into a passenger van on the way to San Francisco for a week of vacationing and Pride parades. They're about forty-five minutes out from their hotel when Enjolras, who is driving, feels his phone buzz and makes the mistake of glancing down to read the message onscreen.

                        **Grantaire** 3:16 PM

                        i get horny at the worst times

                        take now for instance

            Enjolras snaps his gaze away from the screen, hands suddenly much tighter around the wheel. Oh , he is _not_ going to-

                        **Grantaire** 3:17 PM

                        i mean srsly

                        fuck

                        why r u so far away

            The thought of Grantaire getting so bothered so closeby from him in the backseat of the car and unable to reach Enjolras to relieve either of them has the blonde clamping his jaw and pressing down harder on the gas pedal.

                        **Grantaire** 3:19 PM

                        god

                        the things ill do to u tonight

            It's a promise that has Enjoras strategically placing the phone in his lap, biting his lip hard when it lights up again.

            _Don't look don't look don't - fuck._

 **Grantaire** 3:21 PM

                        think ill just use fingers this time

                        maybe my tongue

                        itll still be enough to take you apart

            Enjolras makes a choked sound and Combeferre breaks his attention away from his novel to give hima concerned look.

            "Are you all right, Enjolras?" His brow furrows. "You look a little flushed. Should I turn the A/C up?"

            "That would be nice. I'm not acclimated to the heat yet." Somehow, he manages to keep a straight face.

            Combeferre reaches for the appropriate dial, but pauses halfway there, getting a glimpse of Enjolras' lit phone screen.

            "You have a message. It might be from one of our contacts. Should I-?" He reaches for the phone and Enjolras nearly drives them off the road. Combeferre pulls back, eyes wide. "Or not. My apologies."

            Enjolras swears. "Sorry. Sorry. Actually, 'Ferre, do you think you could drive for a bit? You're probably right in saying that it's one of our contacts and I'd like to talk to them before we arrive."

            "Oh." Combeferre looks mildly surprised but amenable. "Of course."

            Enjolras guides the van to a pull-off and is quick to hop out, too relieved at getting fresh air to feel guilty about leaving Combeferre to sort out everyone's confusion over their sudden extraneous stop. He walks around the grill to the passenger side and rather stupidly chooses to glance at his phone along the way.

                        **Grantaire** 3:23 PM

                        or i could just suck u off

                        but be nice and slow so u scream 4 me

            Combeferre ends up rounding the front of the car just as Enjolras' face flushes, and the bespectacled man comes forward to take his friend's forearm with a creased brow.

            "Are you sure you're okay?"

            "I appreciate your concern, Combeferre, but I promise I'm fine. It's the combination of the sun and the anticipation of the week's events that has me a bit out of sorts."

            Having no reason not to accept the only half-false answer, Combeferre nods. "Well good. I'm happy to see you so excited." He heads to the driver's door with a parting hand on Enjolras' upper arm.

            It is only when they are situated in their reversed positions and Combeferre has pulled back onto the freeway that Enjolras looks down to read the messages he'd ignored while talking to his friend.

 

                        **Grantaire** 3:24 PM

                        wait why r we stopped

                        wait

                        holy shit r u reading these

                         while driving

                        omg e srsrly

                        sorry not sorry

                        thats really fucking hot tbh

                       

                        **Enjolras** 3:26 PM

                        I hate you.

                       

                        **Grantaire** 3:27 PM

                        + thats why u stopped the whole car so u could xchange  
                        dirty txts w me

           

                        **Enjolras** 3:28 PM

                        We're still 30 minutes out.

 

                        **Grantaire** 3:29 PM

                        all the more time to discuss what im going to do 2 u  
                        in that hotel

                        i wonder if there are any anti voyeurism rules 4 the  
                        jacuzzi

 

                        **Enjolras** 3:31 PM

                        Jesus Christ.

 

                        **Grantaire** 3:32 PM

                        wants no part of this i promise

                        but if you want to add someone else.....

                       

                        **Enjolras** 3:34 PM

                        No. You're mine.

                       

                        **Enjolras** 3:35 PM

                        ... that sounded creepy.

           

                        **Enjolras** 3:37 PM

                        R?

           

                        **Grantaire** 3:38 PM

                        WHERE IS THIS FUCKING HOTEL

 

 

            Twenty minutes later Enjolras is throwing himself out of the van and marching up to the hotel's reception desk. Through some miracle (or violent threat), he has all of their room keys within forty seconds and has them distributed in less than that.

            Without uttering a single word, he grabs a red-faced, hovering Grantaire and hauls him to their room, clumsily unlocking it and swinging the 'Do Not Disturb' sign onto the handle before slamming the door behind them.

            The rest of the group is left staring, slack-jawed, at where their leader and his cynic have disappeared. It is a full minute later that Feuilly clears his throat.

            "Well," he says, shuffling and only just holding back a smirk, "I guess we're getting settled before we go out to eat."

 

 

            Enjolras is the one to drag them into the room but Grantaire takes the lead after that, grasping Enjolras' shirt in both hands and slamming him against the wall, attacking his mouth with a feverish kiss.

            Enjolras comes into it swinging, moving his lips hungrily and sweeping his hands underneath Grantaire's shirt and up his back.

            "Oh my _God,_ I've never been this desperate in my _life._ I am so fucking turned on," the artist gets out between gasps.

            "You started it," Enjolras accuses. "Your damn texts nearly killed all of us."

            Grantaire skates his hands across Enjolras' ribs, pulling a shudder from him before setting to work on his buttons.

            "Well," he says with a lecherous smirk, "let me make it up to you."

            He throws Enjolras' shirt aside and after that they are quick to get rid of the rest of their clothing. Fully naked, Grantaire guides them to the bed and lowers them on to it, pushing the towards the headboard while kissing down Enjolras' torso. He stops just above his straining erection, pulling an incredibly frustrated groan forth.

            "Gran _taire_..."

            "Just one second."

            Much to Enjolras' displeasure, Grantaire slides off the bed. But as promised, he's quick to return, something in his hands. By the time Enjolras recognizes the thin cotton accessory scarf Jehan had gifted to him at the beginning of the trip Grantaire is already drawing both hands above his head. But before touching any part of him with the bright red material, the artist pauses, locking their gazes together.

            "Is this okay?"

            In answer, Enjolras lifts his hips to grind enthusiastically against the other man, whose features go slack with lust. He's quick to wrap the scarf around both wrists and tie it to the headboard. Enjolras gives the bind a strong tug and it holds, and they both smile at each other, the expressions glazed with equal parts pleasure, affection, and increasing desperation.

            Having left their luggage in the van, Grantaire has to break away from touching Enjolras to retrieve a condom and lube from his wallet in his discarded jeans, but when he settles himself again between Enjolras' legs, it is with a new determination. He pops open the lube and pours far more than he needs over his fingers, making a show of it.

            "So did you decide how you want it?" He purrs, trailing one slick finger up Enjolras' inner thigh. He says and does no more after that, awaiting an answer.

            "I - I want..." Enjolras bites his lip as Grantaire brushes closer to his groin but doesn't touch it, sweeping down his leg again. He moans. "I want..."

            Grantaire lowers his head, flicking his tongue out to graze along the skin at the base of Enjolras' cock.

            "What do you want? Come on, tell me."

            Enjolras squirms and pants, pulling at the scarf. "Grantaire, _please._ "

            "Please _what_?" Grantaire returns, running his slick hand teasingly along the inner curve of Enjolras' ass. He dances along the rim, dipping the pad of one finger in before pulling away completely, and that seems to be the final straw. Enjolras sobs, wrenching desperately at his bindings and spreading his legs obscenely, at the same time trying to lift his hips.

            " _Fuck me._ Touch me, suck me, I don't care, just - Grantaire, _please._ "

            His own control shot to hell, Grantaire is eager to comply, sliding his first finger in up to the knuckle. Enjolras keens, back arching off the bed as he pushes himself further onto the digit. Grantaire swears breathlessly and reaches down to  hold himself, staving off a too-early finish. He pulls out of Enjolras and thrusts back in with an additional finger, pumping and twisting his hand and gaping at how Enjolras comes apart in labored breaths and streams of filthy language.

            But then the blonde surprises him, lifting both legs and wrapping them around his partner, bringing them close so he can hiss lowly at him.

            "Get in me. _Now._ "

            " _Holy fucking Jesus' mother in a boat-"_

Grantaire is reaching for the condom with trembling fingers, somehow managing to get it on right before he's guiding himself into Enjolras and they're both groaning.

            The pace he sets is hard and steady. Enjolras is arched beautifully beneath him, chest heaving and bounds hands clenching in ecstasy. Sprinkled throughout his loud pants are vulgarities and proclamations of affection alike, broken up by moans or a shout when Grantaire manages a particularly good thrust.

            His orgasm hits hard and changes his whimper to something more primal, a cry that ends in Grantaire's name as his long-delayed release paints both their chests. It seems to last and last, and by the time he's spent, sinking into the mattress only half-conscious, Grantaire is gripping him tight and finding his own peak with a quieter string of _'Enjolras_ 's.

            He falls limp on top of Enjolras and for a minute they are content to lie there, slowly returning to cognizance.

            Grantaire forces himself to move first, pulling out of Enjolras and disposing of the condom, grabbing one of the towels that was oh-so-kindly left on the bed (in the shape of a cat, no less) to clean them up with.

            Enjolras moves to envelop him, but quickly realizes that he can't, still tied to the headboard as he is. Grantaire notices the aborted movement and his eyes widen. He almost tears the scarf in his hurry to set Enjolras free.

            "Shit! Sorry! Sorry."

            Enjolras isn't quite collected enough to reply, so he rolls over and covers Grantaire's mouth with his own. It's answer enough.

            A few minutes later finds them curled together on top of the blankets, facing each other with their limbs tangled and chests touching.

            "So," Enjolras says, absently nuzzling into Grantaire's hair.

            "So," Grantaire repeats, smiling faintly as he runs light fingers up and down Enjolras' arm.

            "Next time," Enjolras states firmly as he draws even closer to his partner, lips pressed against his shoulder as he smiles.

            "Next time we take our own car."

 

 

 


End file.
